THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 


UC-NRLF 


THOMAS  NELSON  PAGE 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 


The  Stranger 


THE 

STRANGER'S   PEW 

BY 

Thomas  Nelson  Page 


NEW  YORK 

Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
1914 


Copyright,  1914,  by  Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
Published  August.  1914 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

THE  church-bells    were   ringing 
loudly,  and  the  bells  of  St. 's 

Church  were  giving  forth  a 
particularly  deep  and  resonant  tone, 
which  set  the  frosty  morning  air  to 
throbbing.  It  was  a  fine  chime,  and 
the  parishioners  were  justly  proud  of 
it.  The  tune  the  bells  rang  now  was, 
"Jesus,  Lover  of  My  Soul."  The 
broad  street  on  which  the  church 
faced  was  full  of  shining  vehicles:  au 
tomobiles,  with  fur-clad  chauffeurs, 
and  carriages  with  well-groomed 
horses  prancing  in  the  chill  air.  The 
sidewalks,  which  in  the  sunshine 
were  covered  with  a  sort  of  slush 

[31 


M15564 


TEE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

from  the  now  melting  snow,  were 
alive  with  well-dressed  men  and 
richly  dressed  ladies  who  moved  de 
corously  toward  the  handsome  stone 
portal,  above  which  carven  saints, 
who  had  lived  holy  lives,  stood  in 
stony  repose.  With  solemn  mien  the 
worshippers  entered,  exchanging  with 
acquaintances  tempered  salutations 
or  fragmentary  bits  of  news ;  bowing 
to  the  bowing  vergers,  who  obsequi 
ously  showed  them  up  the  dim  aisles 
to  their  seats  in  cushioned  pews, 
where  they  settled  themselves  with 
an  air  of  satisfaction.  Each  pew  con 
tained  a  plate  or  card  engraved  with 
the  name  of  the  owner. 

As  the  congregation  passed  in,  off 

to  one  side,  in  a  shadow  beneath  the 

gargoyles,  which,  with  satanic  rage 

graved  in  their  stone  faces,  appeared 

[4] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

as  if  trying  to  spring  down  from  the 
eaves  on  the  heads  of  the  church 
goers,  stood  a  person  gravely  ob 
serving  those  who  entered  the  church. 
His  garb  was  poor  and  he  was  mani 
festly  a  stranger  in  that  section.  He 
had  come  immediately  from  the 
lower  part  of  the  town  where,  a  little 
while  before,  he  might  have  been 
found  in  a  group  about  a  rusty 
street-preacher,  whose  husky  voice, 
as  he  tried  to  tell  the  throng  about 
him  of  heaven  and  the  kingdom  of 
God,  appeared  to  excite  their  amuse 
ment.  Oaths  and  foul  language  were 
freely  passed  among  them;  yet  when 
the  preacher  ended,  a  few  of  them 
moved  off  with  serious  faces,  and  one 
or  two  of  them  stopped  and  offered 
their  pennies  to  a  blind  beggar  work 
ing  at  a  wheezy  accordion.  The 
[5] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

stranger  joined  the  preacher  and 
walked  away  with  him  as  if  they  had 
been  friends,  and  when  he  left  him  he 

turned  toward  St. 's,  whose  bells 

were  just  beginning  to  peal.  He  ac 
costed  one  of  the  passers-by  with  the 
words,  "Whose  church  is  this?" 
"This  is  Doctor  —  -'s  church,"  said 
the  gentleman  as  he  passed  on.  The 
stranger  moved  a  little  away — out  of 
the  shadow  to  where  the  sunlight  fell, 
and  looked  long  and  curiously  at  the 
building.  Another  person  as  he  passed 
him  and  followed  his  glance  said:  "A 
fine  church.  It's  the  finest  in  the 
city."  The  stranger,  however,  did  not 
appear  to  hear.  He  only  shivered 
slightly.  His  worn  clothing  was  so 
thin  as  to  appear  wholly  unsuitable 
to  the  winter  temperature,  and  his 
shoes  showed  his  bare  feet  through 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

their  gaping  sides.  His  face  was 
grave,  and  marked  as  if  by  want  or 
sorrow.  His  eyes,  deep  sunken  as  with 
care,  were  habitually  cast  down,  and 
his  shoulders  stooped  as  though  he 
had  long  borne  heavy  burdens.  He 
might,  but  for  his  gentle  expression, 
have  been  a  workman  out  of  work, 
who  had  known  better  days,  but  his 
countenance,  as  he  talked  to  some 
little  children  who  had  stopped  by 
him,  was  kind  and  gentle,  and  had 
something  childlike  in  it.  As  he  stood 
talking  with  and  enjoying  them,  a 
number  of  the  church-goers  observed 
him  and,  after  a  consultation,  one 
turned  back  and  said  something  to 
the  children  in  a  commanding  voice, 
at  which  they  started  and  ran  off, 
looking  back,  now  at  the  stranger 
and  now  at  the  gentleman,  who  still 

[7] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

remained  in  sight  as  if  to  see  that  his 
orders  were  obeyed.  The  stranger  too 
gazed  after  the  children,  as  if  in  a  sort 
of  pleasant  dream.  From  this  he  was 
aroused  by  another  church-goer  with 
an  official  mien,  who,  after  a  casual 
glance  at  him,  paused  at  the  thresh 
old  and  then  turned  back.  In  his 
gloved  hand  he  carried  a  small  gold- 
headed  cane,  as  fine  as  a  reed,  with 
which  he  pointed  at  the  stranger  as 
he  approached  him,  and  called  in  a 
tone  of  authority:  "Don't  hang 
around  the  church —  Go  on."  So  the 
stranger  kept  on  until  he  had  crossed 
the  street,  when  he  turned  just  in 
time  to  see  the  gentleman  enter  the 
church.  As  the  latter  passed  a  bow 
ing  usher  he  paused  to  say:  "I  am 
expecting  friends  in  my  pew  to-day 
— Lord  and  Lady  [the  name 

[8] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

was  lost],  so  do  not  show  any 
strangers  to  it."  The  usher  bowed. 
Close  on  his  heels  came  another 
who  said:  "No  strangers  in  my  pew, 
they  annoy  me."  "Yes,  sir,"  bowed 
the  usher.  At  that  moment  a  poor 
woman,  dressed  like  a  widow,  in  a 
thin,  shabby,  black  dress,  long  worn 
threadbare,  and  with  shoes  old  and 
broken,  came  along,  and  entering  the 
church  stood  in  the  aisle  just  within 
the  door,  timidly  waiting  to  be 
allowed  to  sit  down  in  one  of  the 
empty  pews.  The  official-looking  gen 
tleman  passed  her,  apparently  with 
out  looking  at  her;  but  as  he  passed 
a  verger  he  said  to  him,  with  a  jerk 
of  the  head:  "Give  her  a  seat;  don't 
let  people  block  up  the  aisles."  The 
verger  turned  back  and  said  to  the 
woman,  in  the  same  tone  the  other 

[9] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

had  used:  "Sit  there,  and  don't 
block  up  the  aisle."  He  indicated  a 
seat  in  a  pew  near  the  door,  and  she 
sat  down  coughing.  Her  cough  was 
bad,  and  it  appeared  to  irritate  the 
verger.  Every  time  he  returned  from 
showing  some  one  to  his  pew  he  kept 
looking  at  her  with  an  expression  of 
disapproval,  and  presently  he  walked 
up  to  her  and  said:  "You  had  better 
sit  in  that  side-pew.  Perhaps  you  will 
not  cough  so  much  there."  He 
pointed  to  the  first  pew  at  the  side, 
under  a  gallery.  The  widow  thanked 
him,  and,  trying  to  stifle  her  cough, 
moved  to  the  other  seat. 

A  little  later  the  sound  of  the  pro 
cessional  came  through  the  closed 
door,  and  the  stranger,  outside,  re 
turned  to  the  church,  and,  as  if  half 
timidly,  entered  the  vestibule  by  a 

[10] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

door  beside  the  main  entrance.  The 
vestibule  was  empty.  He  stopped 
long  enough  to  read  the  inscription 
on  a  memorial  tablet,  declaring  that 
the  church  was  erected  to  the  glory 
of  God,  and  in  memory  of  some  one 
whose  name  was  almost  indecipher 
able.  Then  he  glanced  at  the  list  of 
pew-holders,  in  a  gilded  frame,  con 
taining  many  names,  though  there 
was  still  room  for  others.  He  tried 
to  open  the  heavy  middle  door,  but 
it  appeared  to  have  caught  fast;  for  a 
drop  of  blood  trickled  down  as  he 
stopped  and  gazed  around.  Finally, 
after  some  apparent  irresolution,  he 
entered  the  church  by  a  small  door 
at  the  side  of  the  vestibule.  The 
church  was  a  large  one  and  very 
richly  ornamented.  The  fine,  stained- 
glass  windows  represented  a  number 
[ill 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

of  scenes  taken  from  Bible  history, 
most  of  them,  indeed,  from  the  life 
of  our  Lord — there  was  the  annunci 
ation;  the  scene  in  the  stable  at  Beth 
lehem;  the  healing  of  Jairus's  daugh 
ter;  the  raising  of  Lazarus;  and  over 
the  high  altar,  on  which  burned 
brightly  a  number  of  candles,  the 
Crucifixion  and  the  Resurrection. 
The  church  was  so  large  that  even 
with  the  congregation  that  had  en 
tered,  many  of  the  pews  were  yet  un 
occupied.  In  one  or  two  of  them  was 
a  card  bearing  the  word:  "Reserved." 
The  congregation  was  praying  as  he 
entered — at  least,  some  were;  the 
priest  was  reading  a  confession,  and 
they  were  following  the  words,  some 
as  they  gazed  around,  others  with 
bowed  heads.  Near  the  door,  in  pews, 
were  a  few  shabbily  dressed  persons. 

[12] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

After  a  glance  of  interest  at  the  win 
dows,  followed  by  a  moment  of  irres 
olution,  the  stranger  moved  up  to 
where  gaped  a  number  of  empty 
pews;  but  even  in  the  dusk  of  the 
church  the  eye  of  a  verger  was  too 
sharp  for  him,  and  as  he  started  to 
take  his  seat  the  verger,  with  a  ges 
ture  and  a  word,  halted  him.  "These 
pews  are  all  taken — you  must  stand 
till  after  the  second  lesson."  He  indi 
cated  the  open  space  near  the  door, 
and  the  stranger,  as  if  abashed, 
moved  haltingly  back.  It  was  the  first 
time  he  had  showed  a  lameness.  He 
stood  near  the  door  while  the  service 
proceeded,  and  listened  to  the  fine 
choir  singing  and  chanting  to  the 
strains  of  a  great  organ,  wonderfully 
played.  Once  or  twice  vergers  came 
silently  down  the  aisle,  when  some 

[13] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

one  of  the  congregation  entered  late, 
and  rather  scowled  at  him  for  stand 
ing  in  the  way.  But  when  the  "sec 
ond  lesson"  was  ended,  the  verger 
either  forgot  the  stranger,  or  missed 
him;  so  he  continued  to  stand, 
though  from  his  expression  he  ap 
peared  to  suffer  from  pain,  and  now 
and  then  shifted  his  pose  wearily. 
Only  once  he  smiled.  It  was  when, 
after  a  telling  notice  of  the  needs  of 
the  parish  by  the  white-robed  priest, 
and  a  high  tribute  to  the  generosity 
of  the  people,  a  company  of  gentle 
men  in  kid  gloves  passed  down  the 
aisles,  with  large  silver  platters,  and 
took  up  the  offertory,  while  the  well- 
trained  choir  sang  a  voluntary  of 
much  intricacy — a  part  of  which 
ran,  "How  beautiful  are  the  feet  of 
them  who  bring  the  glad  tidings!" 

[14] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

and  as  one  of  the  collectors  passed 
near  him,  the  old  woman  in  black, 
with  the  bad  cough,  tremblingly  put 
in  two  cents.  The  collector  wore  a 
set  and  solemn  expression  of  severe 
virtue,  quite  as  he  had  done  outside 
the  church  when  he  had  ordered  the 
little  children  off.  But  the  stranger 
smiled  at  the  old  widow.  The  old 
woman  caught  his  eye  upon  her  and, 
moving  up  a  little,  made  a  place  be 
side  her  which  he  took  with  a  smile 
of  thanks.  As  he  passed  the  collector 
he  reached  out  his  hand  over  the 
plate,  but  whatever  he  put  in  it  fell 
so  softly  as  to  make  no  sound.  The 
collector  turned  without  looking  at 
him  and  placed  his  hand  mechanic 
ally  over  the  plate  to  press  down  the 
loose  notes.  Just  then  the  choir 
ceased  singing,  the  collectors  formed 

[15] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

in  line  and  marched  up  the  aisle, 
standing  in  a  line  while  the  collec 
tion  was  poured  jingling  from  one 
plate  into  another.  Then  the  priest 
received  it,  turned  and  marched  to 
the  altar,  and  while  he  held  it  aloft 
the  congregation  sang,  "All  things 
come  of  thee,  O  Lord,  and  of  thine 
own  have  we  given  thee."  The  old 
woman  stood  up,  but  could  not  sing; 
she  only  coughed. 

When  the  service  was  over  the 
congregation,  fur-clad  and  cheery, 
poured  out  of  the  church,  greeting 
each  other  with  words  or  smiles  some 
what  measured,  entered  their  luxuri 
ous  vehicles,  and  drove  off.  The 
stranger  in  the  pew  near  the  door, 
with  a  smile  of  thanks  as  the  poor 
widow,  with  her  racking  cough, 
passed  quietly  out,  followed  her  and 

[16] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

crossing  the  way  stood  for  a  mo 
ment  in  the  shadow,  as  if  observ 
ing  the  congregation;  then,  as  the 
vestryman  who  had  ordered  him 
off  before  the  service  appeared,  he 
turned  and  disappeared  in  the  di 
rection  which  the  widow  had  taken 
toward  the  poorer  part  of  the  city. 
She  was  picking  her  way  slowly 
along  the  sidewalk  when  she  heard 
his  voice,  offering  his  arm  to  support 
her.  Her  shoes  were  old  and  worn  in 
holes,  and  let  in  the  icy  water;  but 
she  appeared  not  to  mind  it.  Her  in 
terest  was  in  the  stranger. 

"Why,  you  are  almost  barefooted! " 
she  exclaimed  in  a  pitying  voice. 

"Not    any    more    than    you,"    he 
smiled. 

"Why,  your  feet  are  actually  bleed 
ing!"  she  argued. 

[17] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

"Old  hurts,"  he  answered  her.  "The 
church  was  cold." 

:eYes,  it  was  cold  near  the  door," 
she  coughed.  "You  must  come  in  and 
let  me  see  what  I  can  do  for  you." 

He  smiled  his  thanks. 

"  You  must  come  in  and  let  me  make 
you  a  cup  of  hot — something,  I  will 
make  up  my  fire  at  once."  She  was 
going  to  say  "hot  tea,"  but  she  re 
membered  she  was  out  of  tea. 

"A  cup  of  water  would  do  for  me," 
said  the  stranger. 

She  was  at  her  door  now,  and  her 
hands  were  cold  as  she  fumbled  at 
the  lock,  and  as  she  turned  after  en 
tering  to  call  him  in,  he  had  disap 
peared.  She  made  her  way  up  to  her 
little,  cold,  back  room  and  sat  down, 
shivering  and  quite  out  of  breath. 
The  coal  was  out,  so  she  could  not 

[18] 


.  THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

make  a  fire,  but  she  wrapped  herself 
up  as  well  as  she  could  and  presently 
forgot  her  cold  and  hunger  in  sleep. 

As  the  official-looking  man  lifted 
his  hand  on  his  way  home  his  wife 
said,  "Why,  your  hand  has  blood  on 
it!" 

He  glanced  at  it  with  annoyance. 
"It  must  have  come  from  that 
money.  I  thought  that  person's  hand 
was  bleeding." 

"Whose?"  demanded  his  wife. 

"Oh,  a  stranger  who  was  hanging 
around  the  church." 

It  was  not  long  afterward  that,  in 
the  poor  part  of  the  little  town,  in  a 
very  small  and  dingy  house,  and  in  a 
little  back  bedroom  of  that  house,  a 
sick  woman  lay  dying.  The  doctor 
who  had  attended  her,  sent  by  a 

[19] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

charity  organization  connected  pos 
sibly  with  St.  's,  had  just  left 

her  side  and  stood  on  the  little  dark 
landing  outside  the  door,  which  was 
slightly  ajar,  speaking  in  a  profes 
sional  tone  to  a  white-habited  nurse, 
who  also  had  been  furnished  by  the 
charity  organization. 

"Well,  there  is  nothing  further  to  be 
done,"  he  said  as  he  drew  on  his  right 
glove. 

"No,  sir." 

"How  long  did  you  say  the  coma 
has  lasted?" 

"All  day." 

"She  will  not  rally  again.  You  know 
what  to  do  when  it  is  over?" 

"Yes,  sir."  It  was  all  professionally 
kind. 

Just  then  a  murmur  came  from  the 
dying  woman  within,  and  nurse  and 

[20] 


THE  STRANGER'S  PEW 

doctor,  moved  by  professional  in 
stinct,  stepped  softly  back  to  the 
bedside.  Some  change  had  taken 
place  in  the  patient.  Her  worn  face 
had  changed.  A  new  light  had  fallen 
on  it.  "He  is  coming!"  she  mur 
mured.  "Oh,  the  glory!— You!"  she 
exclaimed.  "You! — Lord —  It  was 
nothing —  How  beautiful  are  the 
feet!" 

Her  head  turned  slightly  on  the  pil 
low,  and  a  subtle  smoothing  came 
over  her  face.  The  doctor  instinc 
tively  laid  his  hand  on  her.  "She  is 
gone,"  he  said;  "I  knew  she  would." 
But  he  little  knew  how. 


21] 


14  DAY  USE 

TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH 


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LD  21A-50m.ll,  „ 
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